Carmine Sorrow
by Cara-Julia
Summary: Jane's ability of observation and his cleverness make him who he is; always the first one to figure things out. At his latest case, even these characteristics will be his fate. Rated K for some violence.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first attempt to finally write a fan fiction of "The Mentalist". I've been reading so many that I just couldn't resist writing my own one, since "The Mentalist was and is my favourite TV show.

I don't think I'm the only one who misses the series and wants to keep it alive, am I?

The story might include some Jane pain and some Jane/Lisbon, which is rather on a basis of a close friendship than a relationship.

It's set somewhere in between Season 1 and 5, when they're not yet a couple, Red John's still alive and the CBI still exists.

I hope you'll enjoy it!

Feedback about how the story lives up to the actual characters, the plot, the style of writing and basically everything else you can think of / want to comment on, is greatly appreciated :-)

Now there is nothing more to say than: Enjoy reading!

He desperately tried to get the fresh, intensely red blood off of his hands. Even though it was still wet and he could feel its warmth, it seemed to be impossible to rub it off.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, again and again, leaving his gaze firmly fixed on his stained hands, so he wouldn't need to see the picture that presented itself in front of him.

"Patrick," he heard a familiar voice, "Why would you do this to us? You told me you would do anything to protect us,"

"You're safe, you're loved and you're wise," the words he told Charlotte every time when he tucked her in the bed.

This wasn't his wife. Angela was dead. And so was Charlotte. He had just killed them. Killed them and made his mark on the wall above the bed. He knew they were dead.

"Patrick, look at me,"

He finally looked up and saw his wife sitting on the bed, blood flowing from a cut on her neck profusely. She didn't seem to notice.

"You have a case," she whispered. He looked at her in confusion. A case…what?

His mind slowly made its way back into the real world, his wife's voice transforming into Lisbon's.

"Jane, care to join us?" he knew she was standing right next to his couch.

He slowly opened his eyes with a soft moan. Normally, he would never allow himself to drift this far into sleep while so many people were around, but since he ran out of sleeping meds, he really needed the rest.

"A dead girl in an alley," she informed him briefly, not happy that he overslept that information.

"Coming," he said sleepily and slowly got up from the couch.

They walked towards the elevator in silence. The rest of the team was already on its way.

He yawned. Jane was definitely not in the mood for a new case right now, and Lisbon seemed to notice that.

"You didn't sleep last night, did you?" she asked turning to him.

"Meh, it's fine." he said and stretched his arms to shake the last tiredness out of his body.

"Jane, I understand you're under a lot of pressure, but I don't think it's a good thing if-" she started with a softer voice than before.

"Lisbon, I promise, I'm alright," he said and smiled his most reassuring smile.

Lisbon wanted to say something but was interrupted by the elevator's bell.

"Insomnia is a serious problem, and you know I don't like you sleeping all day in the office," Lisbon stated with a concerned voice.

"Lisbon, please, it's all under control," he tried to calm her somewhat.

Lisbon sighed and decided it would be best if she'd change the topic.

"SacPD said it's the body of some CEO's daughter," she said when she drove her car through the cool morning air, "I need you to be nice, Jane, because-"

"Because he's a very important person. Why do you always get intimidated by these powerful people, Lisbon? They are just-"

"Jane, I know, you're right but I don't want to get in trouble," Lisbon said. They'd had this conversation for so many times now.

Lisbon parked the car right in front of the yellow "Crime Scene - Do Not Cross" bands. They got out of the car and headed for Rigsby, who was standing in a dark alley.

"What do we got?" Every bit of concern and softness had vanished from Lisbon's voice when she went from being a friend to being a boss.

"Emma Lindgreen, 16, death due to blunt force trauma to the head, as it looks. Time of death is around 2 am, an anonymous caller informed the police about the body. Her father is Anthony May Lindgreen, the founder of Lindgreen Corporations." Rigsby briefed, "Better be careful with this one, boss," he added with a quieter voice and gestured to an angry and upset man who had to be kept outside the barrier by the local police. He could only be her rich and powerful father.

They looked at the girl's pale and sad body. It's a tragedy if a young life dies like this, thought Jane.

He bent down to take a closer look at her body. She was nicely dressed. Her outfit was too good for the disco and a little too much for casual wear. The fact that she was here in this dark alley, where a father like hers would probably keep her away from, and her clothes didn't fit in this scene either, led him to the conclusion that she possibly did something here, that shouldn't have been doing. Maybe she had a secret lover, or…

He leant further down to see the dark shades under the girl's eyes, that she had tried to cover up with concealer. He as well noticed that her skin was very bad and she had a faint smell of alcohol - Tequila - hovering over her.

"Jane, thoughts?" Lisbon asked impatiently. Jane only raised a finger that told her to wait a second. He went over to the man who was still fighting with the police.

"Mr Lindgreen? Patrick Jane. This is your daughter?" he asked innocently.

Mr Lindgreen nodded, not knowing where this was going.

"I am very sorry for your loss. You know if she was into drugs?" he asked bluntly.

"What, Emma, no!" he was angry that Jane would even suspect such a thing.

"Alcohol?" he persisted.

"Mister Jane, I assure you that my daughter is not into such things." Liar, Jane thought. She not only was into both, he also knew about it.

"May I see her now?" he asked still angry.

"Ah, no. Crime scene, they are very fussy about that." he turned away, while Lisbon tried to calm the CEO down and assure him they'd do everything to find his daughter's murderer as fast as possible.

"Have you found drugs or alcohol on her?" Jane asked a coroner who was standing around doing paperwork.

"Ahm," he seemed somewhat startled by Jane's sudden question but started to browse through his records.

"No, nothing."

Jane nodded quietly and went back to the dead body, where Rigby and Van Pelt were having a conversation about whether she was now in heaven or not.

Jane decided to skip this everlasting topic and look for the drugs, of which he was certain they had to be somewhere here. She was definitely taking them, and in a dark place like this, in such a bad neighbourhood as well, at that time of day, there would've been no reason to leave them at home, where her control addicted father might find them.

He went down the alley and followed it around a corner, where he found two dumpsters. He immediately hoped he was wrong, so he wouldn't need to go through them. But because his guts told him to, he eventually opened the first one hesitantly and was pleased with what he saw.

"Lisbon!" he called. He had not only found the white, powdery drugs in a clear bag but also the murder weapon, aka an old pipe with blood on it. How cliché, he thought.

A smile about being right once again spread on his face when he heard the familiar, metallic sound of a gun getting ready to be fired.

He quickly turned his head and his smile vanished immediately. He saw a dark shape aiming a gun at him. "Stay silent! Now, you're gonna take the drugs and the pipe out, and then you give them to me, or I'm gonna fire. Clear?" a deep voice demanded.

"Crystal," said Jane, who automatically held his hands up in surrender. He very slowly took both from the dumpster. Firstly, because he didn't want to frighten the gunman, secondly, because he hoped Lisbon would come to save him, once more.

Cautiously, he took a couple steps toward the man, stretching his arms out in his direction so he wouldn't need to get any closer than necessary.

"In there," he said so quietly that only Jane would be able to hear him. He motioned towards an old and shabby backdoor next to them, which was opened only a crack and revealed nothing but darkness.

Jane hesitated. This could be my death, he thought. He found it somehow ironic that after he recovered from his nervous breakdown and his willingness to live was finally back, even though the only purpose of his newly gained life was to catch Red John, he repeatedly got into nearly deadly situations like this one.

"C'mon!" the stranger said and accidentally knocked the drugs from Jane's hand by gesturing around wildly with his gun.

"Jane?" Lisbon, thank god! he thought.

He heard the gunman swearing, "Not one word," he hissed into Jane's ear. "Now, go!"

He pushed Jane roughly into the darkness and closed the door quickly but quietly, shutting out the last existing light.

Jane tried to see something, anything, but there was nothing but calm blackness. Then he heard a whirring noise, followed by light that flooded the room. Jane took a look around. It was old and dirty and looked somehow abandoned, due to the lack of furniture inside. There were two other doors that might've led to other rooms but they looked like no one ever dared to open them in the past decade. Then, in the middle of the room, there were once black painted steel stairs, leading up once again into darkness.

"Up there," the man quietly commanded. Of course, Jane thought and had to suppress rolling his eyes.

They made their way up in tense quiet, and Jane was ordered to open the door on top of the stairs.

He turned around to his perpetrator. "Listen, I don't think you want to do this. There's still a way back. The sentence for murder-"

"I haven't killed that girl, man. And now, shut up!" he cut Jane off and pushed his gun warningly into his back. He decided it would be safer to stay calm for now.

They went up two more stairs in the seemingly abandoned building, the atmosphere getting more and more threatening. When they went through the last door, he locked it firmly behind them and Jane got a really bad feeling about this.

The man took out handcuffs and pulled one of Jane's arms behind his back.

"I don't think this is necessary, really, I am not good with-" he tried to explain but was cut off by the man's "Shut up," and cuffed anyways.

"Over to the windows," he ordered to Jane's surprise. Maybe the team would spot him, then. He didn't know whether that was a good thing or not.

The window's curtains had been long gone and some glass had occasionally splintered. They both looked down on the small alley, where Lisbon, Rigsby and Cho, who Jane hadn't yet seen today, where examining the street and looking for their consultant. Eventually, Lisbon found the drugs Jane had dropped not far from the door through which they had entered the building.

The other two agents, and Van Pelt, who had just come around the corner, crowded around Lisbon.

She looked up from her strike and looked around, "Jane?" she called.

"Why did you drop 'em, huh?" the man asked aggravatingly.

"You were a little-" Jane started to explain but was cut off by the gunman who told him to be quiet, stressing the order by showing Jane his gun once more.

What is his plan? How will I get out of this? How am I going to show Lisbon and the team I am up here? Jane's mind was racing.

The man opened one of the two windows with a loud creak, which caused his unit to look up.

He portended Jane to step back and started talking to the team, "Hey, you down there," he called to get their full attention, "I want you to drop that bag and leave this alley, now," he said loudly but calmly.

The team's hands went to their guns while they listened to him, "And leave the guns where they are,".

"Agent Teresa Lisbon, CBI," she showed him her badge, "And you are..?"

Even though Lisbon's voice was deadly serious, it succeeded to calm Jane a little.

"Only for me to know, Agent. Now, please, do as I said!" he got impatient. That wasn't good, and Jane knew it.

"Why would we do that?" she asked coldly.

"Because then," he turned around to Jane and pulled him closer to the window, so his team would see him, "he can live," a mischievous smile spread on the man's face when he pressed the cold metal of his gun against Jane's temple. He sucked in a breath, "Lisbon," he said warningly.

Jane was now able to look down directly at the team, whose faces showed pure horror. He was wondering if they could see the fear in his eyes.

"Okay, Mister, listen to me," Lisbon said with a steady voice, "Everything is going to be okay, just don't hurt him," If it was in different circumstances, Jane would've been touched by her concern but now it just seemed like the standard thing to say.

"Good, agent. Now, take the bag, open the door to your left and lay it on the ground. Then, close the door behind you, and no games!" he said.

Jane was wondering about the fact that the door must be open. Hadn't he closed it, when they came in? Also, he found that the man almost talked in the same way as Lisbon. Maybe he'd been in law enforcement as well at some point.

Lisbon pushed open the door and disappeared in it together with Rigsby. Jane realised that Lisbon didn't want the gunman to notice that one of her men had entered the house as well, so he tried to create some distraction by talking to him, "Really, there's no need of doing any harm to me. We can sort this out like grown-ups," he said because it seemed like the thing to say. "Quiet," he whispered and increased the pressure of the gun to his head. Jane swallowed and felt his aversion against violence rise up in his chest.

Lisbon appeared back in the doorframe alone and shut it behind her. It had worked, due to the four agents standing crowded around the door, he didn't notice one of them was suddenly missing.

"I did as you told me, now, please, release your hostage," Lisbon said and Jane felt a cold chill run down his spine when she referred to him as a 'hostage'.

"First, I want you to leave, agent," he said cheerfully. He loved being in control, Jane noted.

"How do we know you won't kill him after we left?" Lisbon asked. Jane couldn't help but feel a little offended.

Suddenly, they heard how someone tried to turn the doorknob of the locked door behind them. They both turned around. Rigsby, don't, Jane thought.

"Didn't I say no games?!" the man screamed this time in anger.

He turned Jane around, so he was standing with his back to the window, grasped his collar and pushed him backwards. Now his head and a part of his upper body were outside of the building and he looked up in the cloudy sky. Panic took hold of him, "Lisbon!" he called her uselessly.

"Don't!" she yelled back, more at the gunman than at Jane. Her voice wasn't as steady anymore. The concern was breaking through her cop facade like Rigsby at that moment through the door.

"CBI - Drop your weapon!" he screamed and Jane heard the man chuckling quietly before he pushed him out a little more. "No, please, you don't have to do this," Jane said with a rather calm but shaky voice.

"I said 'no games', agent." Jane tried to calm his heart, which was relentlessly slamming against his ribcage, to no avail.

"Leave him alone," Rigby said, while Jane could neither see Rigby and the man inside the house nor Lisbon, Cho and Van Pelt outside in the alley. He prayed, not to a god but to himself, that this would take a happy ending.

"As you wish," the man chuckled and pushed Jane one last, powerful time further out the window frame. He lost contact to the ground and couldn't prevent the fall anymore. Shots rang out.

A/N: I hope you liked this first chapter! The second one will be coming soon, so stay tuned :-) As I said in the beginning, reviews are greatly appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So, this is the promised second chapter of "Carmine Sorrow" for you. But first, I want to thank Rosepeony, MissDonniex, Thorntons and FiascoWay for reviewing the first chapter! It really means a lot.

Chapter 2

Is it going to hurt? Or will I be unconscious in an instant? Is it even possible to survive a fall from this height? It'll be at least six metres. Only to land on concrete, he thought while he hoped it would take a little longer until he reached the ground.

"No!" he heard Lisbon scream desperately. Then he hit the ground; it was softer than he thought it would be, but hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs and compress his every bone. Excruciating pain flooded through every inch of his body like fire and made him gasp. He wished he would've been unconscious.

"Jane," he heard his team saying his name while he just stared up at the sky he wished was blue.

"Jane," Lisbon carefully touched his shoulder, probably to check whether he was still alive. His eyes darted around and saw the shocked and worried faces of Lisbon, Cho and Van Pelt hovering above him.

Lisbon took off her blazer and put it under Jane's head, which was resting on concrete. He was pale, didn't move, and blood flew profusely from a wound on his head.

Jane was wondering if anyone had considered calling an ambulance when he heard the sirens. His mind was working overtime but no useful thoughts seemed to be produced. He felt the pain ebb away and knew that was a bad sign. Especially, in combination with the tiredness that threatened to pull him into darkness. His body felt leaden, like no force on earth would be able to move it.

"…stay with us, Jane. Jane, can you hear me? Everything is going to be okay, just, please, don't close your eyes," he wondered how long Lisbon had been talking like that already.

When the sirens approached, he lost the battle against the darkness and finally gave in. He couldn't help but think that maybe this was the last time he was closing his eyes. He could feel that his injuries were very bad.

He just fell, fell until he felt like he could fall no more. Almost like Alice through the Rabbit's hole. Then, suddenly, he felt that he had landed. Landed on something soft. And warm.

The noises broke through his unconsciousness, almost like if he woke from a dream. Except that he was still tired. Not the kind of tired after an annoying alarm clock wakes you up too early. It was much deeper and much more intense and seemed much more threatening.

He immediately wanted to drift back into the welcoming blackness but something told him that he shouldn't. He decided that he needed to open his eyes to find out what the matter was.

He fought to get them open and eventually succeeded. He blinked a couple of times until his eyes had adjusted to the soft light. God, he had a headache. He was certain it had never been this bad.

He tried to take a look around and noticed, much to his dismay, that he was in a hospital. He had his own room and was alone. He felt that his head was somehow secured in place.

What had happened? He tried to sit up a little but when a wave of intense pain hit his body and he realised that he could not move, he sunk back into his pillows.

What had happened? Just as he started to get a little panicked by the fact that he was in pain and sort of restrained to the bed, Lisbon entered his room. She held a paper cup containing coffee in her hand.

"Jane," she seemed startled to see him awake and almost jumped over to his bed to make sure he really was awake.

"Hey, how are feeling?" she asked softly and placed her hand on his. He could feel her warm touch.

"Lisbon," he said. Speaking hurts, he noted. His voice was dry and croaky and he had been surprised that it was really his. It sounded so unlike him.

"Wha-" his voice broke and he swallowed against the dryness of his throat.

"You want some water?" she asked when suddenly the doctor came in.

"Mr Jane, I see, you're finally awake." the doctor smiled and introduced himself as Dr Michaelson.

Jane tried to say something, to no avail.

"It'll need some time until you can speak again, Mr Jane. You've been on the ventilator for quite some time," he said, "In a day or two, everything is going to be normal again." He took out a little flashlight and shone it into Jane's eyes. He seemed pleased with what he saw. Then he took a quick look at the numerous monitors Jane hadn't yet noticed and noted something down in a chart.

"Okay then, you'll be very tired for the next time, but that's normal. I'll discuss your injuries and recovery with you tomorrow, so you have some more time to wake up properly. If you need me, just call," he smiled friendly and left the room.

Thinking about how bad his injuries might be, Jane looked over to Lisbon one last time before his eyes dropped close and the darkness swallowed him up once more.

The next time he awoke, he indeed felt a little more alert and actually awake.

"Hey, Jane," Lisbon sat in a chair next to his bed. He noticed that she'd changed her clothes. How long had he slept?

"Mornin' Lisbn" he croaked.

She chuckled, "Morning? It's 4pm, Jane,"

"Oh," he tried to smile if he succeeded was debatable.

"Wha..what happnd?" he asked with a painfully hurting voice.

A pensive look spread on Lisbon's face and she clenched her jaw in anger. "Don't you remember?" she said worriedly, "That creep threw you down from the third floor," she swallowed to get her anger under control, she attempted to smile at him pitifully.

Another thought came to Jane's mind, "I okay?" he asked.

Lisbon sighed, "Not yet, but that was to be expected. The doctor said there probably won't be any lasting effects, though," she said, "But it was close, Jane," the last words came out as a whisper.

"M'sorry," he said and looked down.

"You are sorry? It wasn't your fault. You were just once more too clever," she smiled slightly.

He shifted in his bed to get more comfortable and grimaced in pain.

"Don't move," Lisbon said, "You're fixated,"

He looked at her questioningly and she just sighed.

"There's some damage to your spine and head," she said, "You've broken your back twice and had a severe trauma to your head. When you came in, they had to open up your skull to relieve some pressure," she said and he saw in her face that this memory still scared her.

Honestly, it scared him as well. He wanted to bring his arm up to his head to feel the extent of his injury and saw, that his forearm was in a cast. He might have looked at it quizzically because Lisbon then said, "You broke both of your wrists because they were cuffed behind your back, remember?"

He just nodded, even though he didn't really remember anything.

Jane started to rummage around in his memory palace, looking for something that seemed to make sense. When did it get so messy? Jane asked himself. Then, he found something.

"Emma Lindgreen," he whispered.

"You held the opinion that she was taking drugs, so you went around a corner to look for them. And then someone took you as a hostage. His name was Darren Locke, he murdered the girl." Lisbon explained.

Jane just took that as the truth of what happened and went on asking, "How long been here?" even though speaking hurt less, he tried to avoid long sentences.

"They kept you in a coma for twelve days. You had surgery three times," she stated and stared down at the floor like she couldn't stand looking at him.

"Oh," was all he could say.

"You're gonna be alright, you just need some rest," she said more to calm herself than to comfort him.

Jane took a deep breath which caused Lisbon to focus her gaze back at him.

"M'sorry," he said again and took her hand in his. With the other arm, he started another attempt to feel the extent of his head injury. He felt the thick bandages wrapped around his skull and could feel some of his messy curls protruding from underneath. When he reached the back of his head with his hand, he flinched. Not only because his wrist hurt by his every move but also because he found the origin of his pounding headache.

"Are you in pain?" Lisbon asked with concern apparent in her voice.

"Yeah," he answered honestly and closed his eyes.

"I'll call a nurse to give you some painkillers," Lisbon said and pushed a call button over Jane's head that he couldn't see.

Minutes later, a nurse stepped through the door, followed by Dr Michaelson.

"Mr Jane, Ms Lisbon," he greeted friendly with a nod when he came in, "How are we doing today?"

Jane just looked at him, not sure what to respond.

"He said he was in pain, doctor," explained Lisbon.

"That was to be expected. You'll get some more pain relievers as soon as we're done talking here," he said.

The next fifteen minutes, the doctor told Jane about his broken wrists, his twice-broken spine and his injured head, as well as the bruises and contusions covering his body. He needed to be strapped down to the bed to avoid further damage. Jane couldn't listen as carefully as he would've wanted to because this eyes threatened to drop close and release him into a world without pain, complicated explanations and the cruel reality.

The painkillers he received through his IV when the doctor had finished, gave him the last shove towards unconsciousness.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Reviews are, as always, greatly appreciated. I'm not planning to drag the recovery and stay at the hospital out for too long because I don't want the story to become dull, due to repetitions of situations (how often can Lisbon ask whether he's okay, and how often can I describe how he falls asleep and wakes up again?). That's why I'm probably going to change the scenery in the next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

The next days in the hospital were a blur. Jane occasionally slipped in and out of consciousness and lost any sensibility for day and time. He enjoyed waking up and seeing Lisbon sitting next to his bed. After what seemed like the blink of an eye, she was gone again and he was alone in his hospital room. The daylight and the darkness of a falling night seemed to alternate with one another only irregularly and he didn't notice when the nurses from the night shift suddenly became the ones from the dayshift he knew so well.

First, he didn't care much about the life that passed him by without any participation but he soon became more alert and it started to annoy him that he missed so much. Usually, he was the one who noticed everything. Now, he was only a patient who had no control of his body or mind. It was just so unlike him.

He could feel that he gained strength with every passing day and managed to stay awake for longer periods each day, in which he increasingly voiced his wishes for tea or food that didn't want to make him starve, towards the nurses.

Only Lisbon was there to distract him from the dull life in hospital. Also, the team paid him a visit every now and then, including Rigsby, who kept apologising for having been the initial trigger for the gunman to push Jane out of the window.

After a little more than one and a half weeks in his little room at the end of the hallway, he started wondering about how much longer he would need to stay and how much longer all of his injuries needed to heal. He would've liked to at least be allowed to sit up in his bed because he felt like he would soon get bruises from just laying all day. He could address all the questions he had on his mind, when Dr Michaelson stepped through his room's door once again, smiling as always.

"Mr Jane, how are you feeling today?" he greeted him with his standard question.

"Meh, never better, doc," he said more cheerful than he felt, fortunate about the fact that he had gathered the strength to lie again so easily.

"I doubt that, but still, good see you're making the best of it," the doctor responded.

"When do you think I can sit up a little, doctor? I really would appreciate the sight of something else than the ceiling," Jane stated.

The doctor chuckled, "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. The problem we have, Mr Jane, is the injury to your spine. We performed a spondylodesis, which has a long phase of recovery. Sitting can only happen for short periods and you'll need to wear a rigid brace to support your back," he explained much to Jane's dismay, "You need one for the first eight weeks after the surgery. I'll tell the nurse to help you to put it on, so you don't need to be fixated to the bed anymore," Jane just stared up to the white ceiling slabs that were replaced by headlights in regular distances. He didn't expect the recovery to take this long and to be this nasty. He thought about how fast your plans can change, one second, he was at the crime scene and in the best of health, in the next, he was thrown down from the third floor of a building. Just one second had almost ended his life, he still couldn't fully wrap his head around that fact. That man, Darren Locke, had done so much damage to his body, which had been fully intact before. Just for a little bag full of drugs.

"What about the casts?" he then asked and hoped the answer would divert his attention from his painful experience and cheer him up a little.

"I think we should be able to take off the one from your left arm next week. The other fracture was more complicated, so I think that it needs to stay there for another two weeks," he said matter-factly.

Jane took a deep breath, _next week._

The doctor told him he shouldn't take it too hard and wished him a nice day before he left the room.

Jane only had a couple of minutes to think about the things the doctor had said, because then, a nurse he'd never seen before came in and closed the door behind her. That was never a good sign. In her hand, she carried the brace the doctor had talked about. It looked like the stuff nightmares were made of.

"Mr Jane, I'm nurse Robinson and I'm here to free you from your fixations on your bed, so you can move a little more freely," she tried to sound enthusiastic, but the elderly woman was more than annoyed by her job.

The following minutes, she started to screw around on his bed to loosen the restraints that ensured that Jane's spine wouldn't be moved. When they were off, he finally tried to shift a little to get more comfortable. As a result, pain rolled like a wave down his back, "Try not to move," the nurse mumbled grumpily when she saw Jane grimacing in pain. He shot her a "You think?"-look, which the nurse, unfortunately, didn't see.

"Okay, now you need to sit up very slowly and carefully. I'll help you," she put one arm under Jane's neck and used the other hand to slowly raise the head of the bed with a remote. He wasn't sure whether, in the end, he really wanted to sit up if it was such a painful process. His heart rate rocketed from the pain welling up in his back and he struggled to keep his breathing under control. When he finally sat upright in his bed, the nurse immediately pulled the brace around Jane's upper body and strapped it on.

Jane's first thought was, how uncomfortable that gadgetry was. He felt like he couldn't move and, even more importantly, breathe properly. It felt like it wouldn't help to heal but rather do more damage to his spine, due to holding it in an unnatural position.

"Now, you're allowed to sit twice a day for half an hour," she said, "Is everything alright? Do you have any more questions?" Jane thought about asking for more painkillers but decided that he didn't want to get sleepy again already, so he just shook his head and attempted to smile.

Then, there was a knock on the door, "Call me if you need me," the nurse said, opened the door and left, greeting Lisbon who was on her way to visit Jane.

She came in, holding a paper cup of steaming tea in her hand and placed on the tray in front of Jane.

"Thanks," he breathed because he feared that if he took a deep breath, his brace would burst and leave him with more pain.

Lisbon looked at him amusedly, "Are you okay?" she asked with a slight smile on her lips.

Jane rolled his eyes at her, "Eight weeks, Lisbon,"

"Oh, c'mon Jane, it'll be okay. Be grateful they could fix it," Lisbon tried to cheer him up.

"I am very grateful but eight weeks?" he looked at her like a child who didn't get a birthday present.

"You've already been here for three weeks, Jane," Lisbon stated to Jane's surprise. That long?

"Did the doctor say anything about when you can go home?" she said after a short silence.

Jane remembered wanting to ask Dr Michaelson when he was there earlier that day but forgot about it. He hoped his memory would soon be as reliable as it used to be.

"Jane?" Lisbon bent forward to be able to get a better look at Jane's face.

"I…No, he didn't," he then answered sadly and just stared into space.

"Is everything okay, Jane?" Lisbon asked, now genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, it's just, I forget so many things, Lisbon. I never forgot anything," he now looked at her.

"Jane, that's normal. You've been through a lot. Give yourself some time," she tried to calm him.

He nodded and took her hand in his.

He slowly opened his eyes. It really was a torture to sleep with that brace on. Jane tried to shift himself in a more bearable position for the umpteenth time when he noticed a slight movement in the dim light. Jane froze in his movement and listened for any sounds.

"Jane? Are you awake?" a voice asked. It took him a moment to identify it as Lisbon's.

"Lisbon?" he asked confusedly, "What are you doing here?"

Lisbon stepped to Jane's bed so he could finally see her, "You're going home," she smiled.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I'd really love some reviews, they make my day :-) See you hopefully in the next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you all so much for your support! I really appreciate every single one of your reviews; they make my day. Unfortunately, I don't get to answer and mention all of you because there're constantly new reviews arriving (what I'm very happy about!).

So please don't think I don't care or read them properly; I, of course, read and think about every single one of them and really like your ideas and opinions!

Now, enjoy the next chapter:

"Home?" he asked quietly, "What time is it?" To him, it seemed like the middle of the night but he knew he couldn't fully rely on his senses.

Of course, he wanted to go home. There was nothing he wanted more than exchange the busy noises and the antiseptic smell of the hospital for his couch and a proper cup of tea. But as much as he regretted it, he couldn't. Not yet.

Lisbon just stared at him with a pensive face and for a moment Jane wondered whether she knew what he was thinking but then, his brain seemed to wake up a little more and he knew he hid his emotions too well for Lisbon to see. She didn't seem to have the intention of answering his question, why he went on, "Lisbon, I don't know, I don't think I can, you know-" Jane started and commanded himself to first think, then talk.

"I know you're in pain, Jane," she whispered impassively.

Jane looked at her in incomprehension and closed his eyes for a short moment. He was angry his mind wasn't working at the same pace as it used to.

What was wrong with Lisbon? She was so…different. And what time was it?

"Lisbon," he breathed exhaustedly and then opened his eyes to realise she was gone.

"Lisbon?" Jane asked a little louder and tried to turn his head towards the door, what caused a painful throb in the back of his head to set in. He groaned about the additional pain.

He felt a hand touching his arm and the room started to get all whirly and blurry.

"What..?" he asked no one in particular and closed his eyes. When he opened them after a few seconds, the light was brighter and a nurse from the nightshift, Lacey, was standing over him with a concerned look.

"Is everything okay, Mr Jane?" she asked.

 _Is it?_ Jane wondered. He needed a moment to compose himself and realised that his mind had played a trick on him.

"What time is it?" he asked bluntly.

The nurse seemed somewhat startled by her patient's question but took a look at her watch, "It's 5:20 am," she said.

"May I go home? I don't feel like going home," Jane stated sadly, thick fog dulling his brain.

"Mr Jane, I assure you, you're not going home before you're absolutely ready for it. You need to stay here for a little longer," she said softly.

"Thass good," Jane mumbled falling back to sleep.

Unfortunately, the throb in the back of his head hadn't vanished when he woke up again on the late morning. He sighed about the otherwise normal level of pain.

 _It didn't feel like a dream,_ Jane thought. It was too real, too clear. When he thought about the happenings of the last night, he doubted that Lisbon had ever been there. Why would she? He didn't exactly know how his injuries affected his mind but he did know, that it should get better over the time. It worried him that it didn't. How long had he been in the hospital? He thought about Lisbon giving him an answer the day before that had surprised him. He couldn't remember it, though.

His mind felt sticky somehow, he couldn't see his memory palace nearly as sharply and detailed as he used to. His thoughts were coming a lot more slowly and he tended to be confused because he couldn't keep up with everyone else, what angered especially him because he usually was the one who had to wait for everyone else to catch up with his mental leaps. He felt like he was stuck in a wrong body. He'd never experienced injuries nearly as severe as these and even though he'd never done any specific training or sports to keep his body in shape, it had always obeyed and complied with his desires and needs. It never let him down. Except for now. Now, neither his body nor his mind seemed to be his.

"Mr Jane, good morning," Dr Michealson jolted him out of his thoughts.

Jane tried to see him but couldn't because he was laying flat on his back and his blankets covered his sight to the door. Another thing that angered him.

 _Why's the doctor here so early today?_ Jane asked himself. He usually paid his daily visit in the afternoon.

"Lacey told me about what happened last night," he said when he closed the door.

When he said it like that, it sounded so negative. Like it was super abnormal that someone had vivid dreams sometimes.

He stepped to Jane's bed, "She said you seemed confused and were talking incoherently," he said, his usually omnipresent smile gone.

"I just had a very vivid dream, doc. Nothing to worry about," Jane smiled at the doctor reassuringly, but he didn't believe him.

"You had a cerebral contusion, when you arrived here, Mr Jane, including a cerebral bleeding," the doctor stated.

"So I was told," Jane said impatiently.

The doctor nodded, "It's been 22 days since your fall. The symptoms of your intracranial injury should be mostly gone. In other words, the function of your brain should be normal again by now," Dr Michealson paused and waited for Jane's reaction but his countenance remained inscrutable so he went on, "If there's anything to worry about, please let me know. We'd need to address that as soon as possible," the doctor looked at Jane urgently. He just nodded.

"Do you need to tell me something, Mr Jane?" he spoke to him like to a child that didn't obey.

Jane only understood half of what the doctor had said, due to his problems to focus but he was sure he's asked a question. He just didn't know which one. The doctor seemed to notice Jane's misery.

"Do you understand me, Mr Jane?" he asked concernedly and bent forward to get a better look at Jane's face.

"I…don't know," he answered honestly, all his confidence gone. It was just these moments when people talked to him about the things a little more complicatedly, that his brain seemed to just shut down. It scared him because he usually was in full control of his mind and always a step ahead of everyone. How could he not be capable of having a normal conversation? Why was his brain this way? Why didn't it obey? Would it ever become like it had used to be? Without his mental skills, he wasn't _him._ He couldn't protect himself, neither by building up a wall to hide his feelings nor by being smarter than his counterpart.

Jane tried to remember the last time Lisbon had visited him but he just couldn't recall it. It was somewhere in the back of his mind to which he, seemingly, didn't have access. It was close to the throbbing headache which caused his pain level to rise by every passing minute.

The doctor shone a flashlight in Jane's eyes and mumbled that his left pupil was dilated.

"We're going to make another MRI, Mr Jane. The nurse will take you down as soon as possible. I'll come and talk to you about the results afterwards. Call me if you need me," the doctor explained and quickly, and worriedly, left the room, leaving the door open.

 _Where did he go?_ Jane asked himself while he was processing the information the doctor had just provided. His felt dizzy and a little nauseous, so he decided to take a little nap.

When Jane slipped back out of the world of dreams, he could feel something warm on the side of his leg. He slowly opened his eyes to see what caused this pleasant sensation.

The first thing he saw was a tangled brown mess, which he soon recognised as Lisbon's head. She had fallen asleep on the side of his bed. How long had he been sleeping..?

He put his hand on Lisbon's hair and carefully stroked it. She moaned softly and turned her head to smile at Jane.

"Good morning," he said and returned her smile.

She lifted her head, "It's evening, Jane," she said softly.

"How long did I sleep?" Jane asked looking around, "They wanted to do another MRI,"

Lisbon's smile disappeared, "They already did it. Don't you remember?"

Jane started to look for the memory frantically but he couldn't find it.

"I probably overslept it," Jane said, even though he was almost certain that he didn't since the MRI machine made so much noise.

"Jane, you joked around with the doctor while he accompanied you down," she said, fear spreading over her face.

Jane had absolutely no memory of what Lisbon told him had happened. It scared the life out of him. How could that be possible? He needed to talk to the doctor about the results. Or…had he already?

"Did we talk about the results yet?" Jane asked. He was scared that he had forgotten about them as well. It felt so unreal to have such an unreliable memory. Especially for him.

To Jane's reassurance, Lisbon shook her head.

On cue, the doctor came in, holding a stack of pictures of Jane's skull in his hand. He wasn't smiling this time.


	5. Chapter 5

"Doctor," Jane greeted him nervously.

"Mr Jane, I've got your results," he said. It worried Jane that he wasn't smiling. Usually, he always was, even after he'd woken up in the hospital for the first time.

The doctor looked at Jane with pensive face and a short silence emerged.

"What is it, doc?" Jane asked more confidently than he felt.

"Mr Jane, I told you about the brain bleeding you had when you first arrived, right? I had to open up you skull to release pressure from your brain and to stop the bleeding. It seems like a blood clot has formed in your skull, which explains your headache, dizziness and memory loss, as well as the confinement of your ability to understand and process language properly," he explained and Jane felt how slowly but surely his brain became unable to cope with all the facts and started to steadily shut down again, bit by bit. He got angry about being so weak, especially mentally. He tried harder to focus on the words and the meaning of the facts the doctor told him, to no avail.

"This is a complication that may occur and shouldn't worry you too much for now. Your symptoms might be scary but with a simple craniotomy, I can retrieve it and within a few days, you'll feel a lot better," the doctor smiled hesitantly while Lisbon suddenly looked to the ground and swallowed hard. Everything in Jane's brain was confusion. He didn't fully understand the doctor and he didn't know what to think of the parts he did understand. He wondered the doctor had known about his headache. He certainly didn't tell anyone, or…did he?

"I would suggest we perform the surgery tomorrow morning, so you have the night to prepare yourself, Mr Jane. What do you think?" Dr Michaelson looked from him to Lisbon, who just slightly nodded her head. Jane just couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag.

"Since you are listed as Mr Jane's next of kin, Ms Lisbon, I'd say it's fine if you approve the surgery since Mr Jane's fails to do so," the doctor said and looked at Jane empathetically.

Lisbon had to admit that he was right, Jane didn't understand what the doctor was telling him and could've never made a rational decision. It hurt her to see Jane so vulnerable, so unlike everything he'd ever been.

The doctor left quietly and Lisbon lost herself in thought. So did Jane, even though his thoughts were blurry and confused.

"I don't want to live like this," he whispered into the emerged quiet.

Lisbon looked at him sadly and attempted to smile encouragingly, "It'll be okay, Jane. I promise. As soon as you had your surgery, everything's going to be fine," she said, not only to comfort Jane but herself as well.

He sighed, "You have to understand, I've never been like this, Lisbon. Everything that I ever relied on, everything I _am_ is my mind. Without it I…I am just not…I need it back, Lisbon," he looked deep into her worried eyes.

"And you will, Jane," she squeezed his hand.

The surgery scared him more than he wanted to admit. He didn't remember, maybe he'd never known it, what exactly they would do but the imagination that they'd open up his skull, that they decided whether he would live or die, frightened him. He'd always been capable of protecting himself, he always _had_ to protect himself and now? Now he was dependant on someone who made important decisions for him because he wasn't even able to _understand_ what someone was _saying_. There was a lump of anger, sadness and anxiety in his chest, which felt like it had become a part of his body and would never again disappear.

Jane had fought against the anaesthetic that wanted to knock him out but finally he had given in to the threatening blackness. The surgery only took a little more than one and a half hours but he had been slap all day.

The next morning, the whole team showed up. On one hand, Jane was happy to see them since they were the closest thing to a family, that he had. On the other hand, he never allowed anyone to see him vulnerable, _weak._ Lisbon had been essential because she took care of the things that had to be taken care of but the others were too much. Jane hadn't yet gained the strength to put up a front and he didn't like to be looked at empathetically, so he was happy when they, including Lisbon, finally left the room so he could enjoy the silence.

In the next days, the got stronger and the throbbing headache, as well as the dizziness and confusion, vanished. He felt like everything was just much clearer as it had been before. In his opinion, he didn't experience any memory loss either but he couldn't really tell since he wouldn't know what he had forgotten. It had given him hope, which he desperately needed, that the doctor had told him that the operation went well and his brain should be as good as new in about two weeks.

A few days later, it was announced to Jane that as soon as his cast was taken off, he would be allowed to go home if he stuck with bed rest all day and had someone, who could take care of him.

It was a Wednesday when they cut off the cast on his left wrist and he was allowed to tried to get up for the first time. Lisbon supported him by holding his left arm while he struggled to his feet. His brace made it hard for him to move. In the end, he was standing on shaky legs right next to his bed.

It made him sad to see how weak his legs were and how much effort it cost him to even stand up. _Everything had been okay and it took only one second to destroy my body to such an extent,_ Jane thought angrily.

"You're doing good," Lisbon said and smiled at him reassuringly.

Jane just sighed and sat back down on his bed, afraid his legs wouldn't support his weight any longer.

"It'll get better every day," the doctor, who had watched the whole process, said.

 _Maybe_ , Jane thought, _so I'll be able to take a walk in what? A year?_ Jane was disappointed in himself, as well as frustrated and angry his recovery took so long. He felt like every day was just there to torture him more.

"Mr Jane, you really are doing good. You'll be allowed to go home tomorrow. You'll see, when you're home, everything will feel different," Dr Michealson promised. Jane just nodded and his gaze dropped to the floor, "If you say so,". No one could overhear the sarcasm dripping from Jane's words.

The doctor left and Lisbon sat down next to him on his bedside, "It's going to be okay, Jane," she said and bent down because she knew Jane wouldn't look at her until she moved in his field of view. He didn't answer. They both sat there, next to each other, rapt up in thought.

"We still need to talk about what we're going to do," Lisbon started softly. Jane glanced at her with a questioning look, even though he knew what she was talking about.

"Do you…" Lisbon was unsure how to formulate it without making it sound weird, "Do you want to stay at my place for a little while?" she eventually said. Jane's face remained inscrutable so she went on, "I mean, you need someone to take care of you and look that you really stay in bed," she smiled in the end because she thought of Jane's passion for breaking rules.

"Lisbon," he stated after a short silence, "I don't want to bother you with this. You don't need to care for me, really. When I leave the hospital, I need a bed and food regularly and…" he swallowed and wondered how his life could've become so miserable, "I don't expect you to sleep on the couch and cook," he said quietly.

"Who said I'd sleep on the couch?" she asked amusedly and he finally looked at her.

"I know you wouldn't want to disturb me because you have to get up early to get to work or if you lay awake in the night once more, so you'd just take the couch," he stated.

"I don't lay awake, Jane. Besides-" Lisbon started but was interrupted my her consultant, who was further away from doing his job than ever before.

"Oh, come on. I may be injured but I'm not stupid. I can very well see that you don't sleep well, my dear" he said and shot her a you-can't-fool-me look.

Of course, he had been right. And even though Lisbon didn't like that fact, she did like to see him mentally turning back into his old self she had missed so much.

"All I'm trying to say is that it's okay if you live with me for a while, Jane. Just until you're healthy enough to make it on your own," she said and in that moment, he realised that there was a great deal of guilt sparkling in Lisbon's eyes, which he probably overlooked the whole time while his mind had been muffled in fog. She felt responsible for what had happened to him.

"It's not your fault," Jane said and saw the short moment of confusion on Lisbon's face. _It feels so good to get my mind back,_ Jane thought.

"I am supposed to keep you safe, Jane. And I failed," she said and clenched her jaw, "And besides, what are you planning on doing if I won't help you recovering? Who are you going to ask?"

There was silence, Jane hadn't thought of that.

"Jane, please, stay with me at my place," she said seriously concerned, "Or do you want do stay in hospital," Lisbon had looked down and now glanced now up at Jane, who just slightly shook his head, "You won, I'll come with you,"

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Looks like Jane's finally going home. I'd really appreciate a review if you liked it, even constructive criticism if you didn't! Or just show me your view on Jane and Lisbon. See you hopefully, in the next chapter,

Julia


	6. Chapter 6

Lisbon spent the rest of the day preparing and tidying up her place. Of course, she had expected that there might be the possibility of Jane staying with her after he was released from the hospital since he didn't have anyone else who could've taken care of him. Nevertheless, she'd never considered cleaning up the mess that had built up over the last few weeks. If she wasn't visiting Jane in the hospital, she was in the CBI fulfilling her duty as a boss. In the end, there had been no time to keep her, admittedly always a little messy, place in order.

While she was cleaning up and listening to her Spice Girls CD, she realised how much she was looking forward to Jane to stay with her. Sometimes, he can be unnerving, childish and stubborn, sure, but often enough they made a good team. He could make her smile like no one else and they had formed a genuine friendship over the years.

When she felt like everything was tidy and clean enough, she drove to the local supermarket to buy some essentials. Her fridge wouldn't be able to even nourish one person, let alone two. Lisbon thought about the last time she had properly eaten but couldn't really recall it.

That day, she bought things at the supermarket she'd never bought before and would probably never buy again. Things, she assumed Jane would like and need for his recovery. Tea had been her major priority.

When Lisbon drove off to the hospital the next morning, she knew Jane's mood would be more than good. She talked to the doctor and signed Jane's release paperwork before she went down the hallway in the sixth floor she knew so well.

"Morning, Lisbon," he greeted her when she entered his room. He sat in his bed, smiling at her.

"Hey Jane, are you ready?" she asked and returned his smile.

He nodded and motioned towards his packed bag, "The nurse was so kind to pack my things," he explained.

Lisbon got Jane in a wheelchair. He still wasn't allowed to walk on his own or to stand for too long.

The drive to Lisbon's flat was quiet. She tried to drive as careful as possible and even though Jane didn't say anything, she couldn't shake the feeling that he was in pain. Maybe she assumed it just _because_ he wasn't saying anything. It was never a good sign if he was awake and quiet.

There was a certain absurdity to the scene in the car, since Jane sat straight and rigid, thanks to his brace, in the passenger seat while still wearing the pyjamas he had exchanged against the hospital gown at some point.

When they finally arrived, Lisbon took the wheelchair, which they had borrowed from the hospital, out of the trunk of the grey SUV. It seemed to cost Jane a huge amount of effort to make it from the passenger seat in the chair but he refused any help. He still didn't like the feeling of being dependent or pitied.

Lisbon closed the door of her flat behind her and waited for Jane to make a comment about her tidiness but he stayed quiet. He just sat in his wheelchair and stared into space, either rapt in thought or extremely tired. Or both.

She realised that she'd expected Jane to be back to his old self when he was released from the hospital and with that allowed to go home but that wasn't the case. In the end, he'd been in a coma for quite some time and had had severe injuries. He still was injured and his head and brain still were healing. The conversation they'd had the day before had given her back the confidence in Jane's ability to think and figure out. Now, she understood how much exertion it had cost him to be mentally at a level with her for only a few minutes, even though his mental performance was usually vastly superior to hers.

"Let me take you to the bedroom. You look like you could use some sleep," she then said smiling softly.

He nodded and his gaze fixed on her, "Thank you, Lisbon,"

She just smiled at him and brought him into the master bedroom. Jane almost fell asleep just looking at it, how soft and warm and relaxing…

"Jane?"

"I'm awake, I'm fine," he quickly said, _How come I'm so tired?_

With Lisbon's help, he managed to lay down on the soft mattress, which gently caressed his damaged back. Before he could thank her for everything, he'd already lost the fight against darkness.

She watched him as he closed his eyes and his breath came deeper and more regularly. She was happy he was asleep. He couldn't feel pain, exhaustion or his disabilities, he could just build himself a much nicer world. Where he had his unhurt body and his normal strength and wouldn't just fall asleep at the tiniest effort.

She looked around. What was she going to do now? She couldn't really leave, in case he woke up and needed anything but just standing in her bedroom and staring at him sleeping felt weird either. It was different than in the hospital when she sat next to his bed, waiting for him to wake up. Now, it seemed more personal, more intimate.

She decided to make herself a coffee, first of all. There might've still been some in the pot she'd made this morning.

She sat down on her couch, unsure what to do. Usually, she spent all of her time at work and was barely home. If she was, she used it to eat, sleep or clean up but never to take time for her and just do things women usually do. She rarely watched TV, she normally just used it as a distraction to fall asleep. She rarely read book or magazines either and, of course, she wasn't a person to cook or bake either.

After a couple moments of an awkward silence she'd never felt before, she decided to quietly sit down on the bed next to Jane, the once-steaming mug of coffee in her lap.

She automatically looked at him; The pillow preventing some of his golden curls from wildly standing out and his relaxed features that wouldn't foreshadow the damage to the corresponding body.

Even though she knew he was only asleep, she was concerned. It didn't feel right that he was so still. In the hospital, it, once again, had been different. People, who were in the hospital were injured. They were meant to be quiet. Their surroundings made them look injured but when they were home again, they should be okay.

She knew her thoughts were irrational but she couldn't help herself.

It hurt her so much that there'd been so much damage done to him. That she couldn't protect him. It was her job. She had failed and he had paid the price. And it hadn't been cheap.

She still remembered every second of the accident. She remembered the cold chill that ran down her spine when she saw him up in the window. She remembered the pleading look in his frightened eyes when he stared down at her and called her name. He trusted her. He had trusted her to save him and she had failed. Just failed. She knew that Jane wasn't mad at her for what had happened, even though she doubted he really remembered everything. He didn't think it was her fault but she knew better. She'd gone through the memory, again and again, trying to figure out what she could've done differently to change the outcome of the situation. She shouldn't have told Rigsby to enter the house. She should have caught Jane when he fell, even though she'd have hurt herself. Cho did. Cho had done well. Jane had partly fallen on him, pulling him to the ground as well. He'd had bruises and contusions but nothing severe. She didn't think Jane had felt a big difference, though. She wondered whether he'd been in pain then he hit the concrete or if the adrenalin and the instant severity of his injuries had blocked everything out immediately. She hoped so. She hoped he didn't suffer.

At first, she'd thought he'd been dead, considering the force he hit the ground with. It had looked terrifying and she hadn't thought anyone could survive such a fall. Fortunately, he did.

She remembered his eyes staring towards the sky without any expression. He had looked like one of the numerous bodies she'd seen over her years in law enforcement. She'd said his name, once, twice, three times but he didn't react. She'd thought that if he had been alive, he would've at least been unconscious. I had confused and amazed her when he had turned his eyes towards her, even though they seemed empty and unfocused. It had shown her he was alive. She remembered the hot tears that had run down her cheeks. She'd kept talking to him when he laid on the hard ground in front of her. She'd carefully put her blazer under his profusely bleeding head, so it wouldn't need to rest on the cold concrete any longer. She thought his skull had been smashed and that the brain damage must've been too much to repair.

When he'd closed his eyes, his beautiful green eyes that usually were sparkling and mocking her, she'd thought that she'd seen them for the last time. She'd thought that it'd been it.

There'd been two cardiac arrests on the way to the hospital. Three more after that in the hospital. His body had wanted to give up. The damage had been too massive to bear.

The time in the hospital had been a nightmare. She'd sat at his bedside every day, waiting for him to open his eyes. Although no one was certain he'd ever do that. They'd told her to go home, to take care of herself, that she couldn't do anything for him but she'd felt like he recognised she was there. That it would help him, somehow.

She remembered crying a lot in that time, imagining what would be if he hadn't woken up. She'd realised that he was more important to her than she had ever admitted to herself. That's why she'd lost herself in guilt and grieve. She couldn't sleep properly and if she did, she'd had nightmares. She didn't eat properly either. It had all felt numb and surreal like she had fallen into a coma with him.

The first time she could feel again that she was actually alive, was, when she walked into his room and she realised his eyes were open. She didn't remember a moment when she'd been that happy and relieved.

She looked out her bedroom window where rain started to pelt against the glass.

Jane really meant a lot to her. She was unsure whether it was a close friendship or really love. Despite love was a part of friendship as well. If it really was love, she'd missed the point where it'd gotten to that stage. She thought about telling him. Maybe he already knew. Maybe he'd known it even before she did. He was Patrick Jane.

She hoped he'd get his old mind back. She knew that it was who he was. He wouldn't be him without his mind. She doubted that he could even live his mind absent, without falling into a depression. There was just one option; He had to get his mind back. And he would. There was no plan B. She'd seen how bad it had affected him when the blood clot had incapacitated his brain.

"Lisbon?" a quiet voice next to her asked sleepily.

"I'm here, Jane," she whispered quietly and smiled. He sounded so lost. He talked to her like a little boy to his mum.

With a sigh, he snuggled down in his pillow a little more and continued his peaceful sleep.

A/N: Here we go! A little more Lisbon this time, I found it important to see her take on things and the accident as well. Sorry that it took a couple days to update! (Hopefully,) won't happen again.

Reviews, (doesn't matter if about the style of writing, the characters, the plot, … or just your thoughts about the two) are always greatly appreciated!


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